Chapter 53
The three of us trailed after him, winding through a series of maze-like hallways until we finally stepped into a vast chamber. It looked almost like an underground throne room. At the far end, a dais rose from the stone, and on it sat a large, imposing chair. A woman lounged there, poised like a queen, and lining the sides of the room were clusters of menacing figures—silent, watchful, dangerous.
As we drew closer, I saw she was an Elven woman—and when I activated my detection spell, I saw the deep red magical trace surrounding her.
Angrboda.
My hand twitched toward my necklace, instinctive—but I stopped myself. We had to remove Loki’s collar first. There was no way we could fight or escape if we tried to take her soul now, not with all these guards. We needed Loki free. We needed him strong enough to teleport us out.
Teleporting just myself would already be difficult. I had never actually done it before—not like that. I had read about it, studied the theory, but long-range teleportation was especially risky when you were unfamiliar with the place you were jumping to.
And with the bracers still on, my Seiðr was limited.
Not sealed—but controlled.
Most of my power now went into fueling and stabilizing the bracers, keeping their elemental magic balanced. But there was still enough left—enough for Loki to draw from once the collar was off.
Worst-case scenario, I would faint the moment he took it.
And if that happened, I knew he would teleport me to safety.
We came to a stop at the base of the dais. The Elven woman studied us—studied me—with a cool, calculating gaze.
“Do you have the bracers?” she asked, her voice sharp as ice.
There was something familiar in her tone—an echo I could not quite place. An inflection, a rhythm. Like a memory hiding just out of reach. It prickled down my spine, tugging at something buried deep in the back of my mind… but I could not bring it into focus.
Thor stepped forward, helping Loki steady himself.
“Yes. We kept true to our word,” he said, voice low with a growl. “But we demand you release Loki from the collar so we may heal him before handing over the bracers.”
She looked at him with eyes colder than her voice.
“You demand this of me?” she said, with a mocking arch of her brow, as if he had just told a joke.
A low rumble of laughter rippled from the guards along the walls.
As I focused on her, I caught the faintest flicker of emotion beneath her polished mask. Anger. Fury, even. She was doing her best to hide it—but I felt the edges of it, sharp and simmering.
We had to tread carefully. This was not a battle we could win by force.
I stepped forward and gently pulled Thor back by the arm.
“What Prince Thor means,” I said calmly, “is that we would like a show of good faith. I hope you understand—the deceptions we’ve faced up to this point have left us little reason to trust. If we’re to give you the bracers, we ask for this one token of trust in return: remove Loki’s collar.”
She looked at me for a long moment, then a slow smile curled across her lips.
“That was eloquently said, Princess Aurora,” she murmured. “But what is to stop you from teleporting them both out the moment I do? As you may recall, we were… close. I know you are a Seiðr user as well.”
She wiggled her eyebrows at me, sly and suggestive.
I blushed, the memory burning—her lips, pretending to be his. That kiss. That violation.
“You have my word,” I said after a pause. “I swear I won’t use my Seiðr to teleport myself, Loki, or Thor to safety. I don’t know how much you know about me, but I’m half-Æsir. I couldn’t teleport even one of us without serious risk—let alone all three.”
She tilted her head, that wicked smile still playing at her lips.
“While I admire your naivety,” she purred, “you do not truly expect me to believe in someone’s word, do you?” Her voice turned bitter, cold. “Do you really think a noble’s promise means anything? They offer the world and toss you aside the moment it suits them. Words are meaningless.”
The venom in her voice hit like a slap to the chest.
She stepped down from the dais, her footsteps slow and deliberate, and came close—too close. She studied my face with unsettling intensity.
“But at least you know what I speak of,” she whispered near my ear.
Then she pulled back, graceful as ever, and turned toward the throne again.
“Allow me to introduce my other half. My name is Yrissa.”
I couldn’t hide the shock. Couldn’t even pretend to.
Yrissa.
Not only was Angrboda inside her—the Elven woman was Yrissa.
And even now, even with everything she’d done, I felt something stir for her. I knew what had happened to her. I knew what she’d felt in those moments with Muriel… and with Loki. All that grief, all that hatred—twisted now, repurposed, turned into something else. But it had been real once. And it was hard to look at her, even like this, and not feel the ghost of who she used to be.
“I see they told you about me,” Yrissa said, settling back into her throne.
She turned her gaze to Loki. When I followed it, I saw him lower his eyes. Shame radiated from him like heat. I felt it, too.
That seemed to please her. She smiled, then turned her attention back to me.
“So now you understand why I will not take anyone’s word for anything,” she said. “Neither will my partner.”
I nodded slowly.
“Then what do you propose?” I asked. “Because as you can imagine, we can’t just hand over the bracers with nothing. We have no reason to believe you would keep your word—if you even gave it.”
Her smile deepened, turned darker.
“There are other ways,” she said smoothly, “to ensure one’s honesty.”
She looked at Loki, then back at me.
“Loki, come over.”
He obeyed, though I could feel how drained he was. Each step looked like it cost him.
“Now,” Angrboda said, her gaze locking onto mine—unblinking and cold. “I will ask you a few questions. And you will answer them honestly. Am I clear? Loki will be our judge of whether you speak the truth.”
“Do you intend to teleport either yourself, Loki, Thor, or any combination of the three of you away once I release him?”
“No,” I said. “I will not use my magic to teleport Loki, Thor, or myself—or any combination of us—from this place as soon as the collar is released.”
She nodded once.
“Now tell us who has the bracers in their possession.”
I blinked, hesitating for just a second before glancing at Loki.
“I have the bracers in my possession.”
Her eyes shifted to him.
“Now, in a show of good faith, let the other take over. I want to verify whether she told the truth.”
Loki flinched.
I saw it—the flash of horror that passed through him at her demand. His eyes darted to me, then back to her.
But after a long, tense pause… he nodded.
His hand trembled.
And then, I felt it.
His emotions shifted.
Dark. Angry. Wrong.
A slow, crawling sickness crept over me as his expression changed. His mouth twisted into a wicked smile, and something in his eyes went flat and cruel.
I stepped back instinctively.
He grinned wider.
Took a step toward me.
“Look at me, you idiot!” Yrissa snapped, her voice sharp and commanding.
Immediately, he turned to her.
“Did she speak the truth when she said that she would not use her magic to teleport her or her friends? And is she in possession of the bracers?” she barked.
I could feel his anger at her tone—but also the grudging respect he held for her power.
“Yes,” he said. “She was telling the truth.”
He paused.
“But that is not all.”
My heart sank.
“She plans to have me take her Seiðr after the collar is removed. Then we teleport away and leave the bracers behind—so they may regroup and fight you another day.”
Yrissa’s eyes narrowed sharply, but she did not speak.
Loki—or whatever was inside him now—smiled like he was proud of himself.
He turned to me with a wicked grin, lips parting to say more—but suddenly, there was a sharp squeak from his throat. His whole expression shifted. I felt it, too. The sickening energy drained away, and just like that, my Loki stood before me again.
He looked at Yrissa with defiance. I felt her anger spike at the interruption—but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes, cold and deliberate.
“I did as you asked,” he sneered. “But I will not torment myself by speaking the vile thoughts that man has about the woman I love.”
His voice rang out sharp with fury.
A cold wave rippled off Yrissa, but she nodded once. Still, I could feel the distrust building behind her gaze.
Thor stepped forward. “Now that you see she told the truth, can we please remove his collar and get this over with?”
Her gaze snapped to him, icy and furious.
“I believe her,” she said, her tone like frost. “But I do not believe you—or any claim Asgard makes.”
Her voice turned bitter, edged in rage.
“What is to stop you or Loki from forcing her to break her word? Or from executing some hidden backup plan the moment I turn my back?”
She shifted slightly, her expression cooling as something far more calculating settled into place.
“I will release his collar,” she said. “And I will swear not to harm any of you—so long as none of you try to harm me. But only if she swears to give me full use of the bracers.”
Her smile was cruel as she held up a shimmering silver chain that appeared in her hand. The moment it caught the light, I saw Loki tense.
“But both of us will swear this on our lives,” she added. “With an unbreakable oath.”
Loki’s hand shot out and pulled me against him, his grip tight.
“Do not do this, Aurora,” he whispered. I could feel him trembling. “This is dark, forbidden magic. If you swear and break that oath—even by accident—you will die.”
I looked between him and Thor, then back at Yrissa.
I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t swear something I knew I couldn’t keep. The power of the bracers wasn’t mine to give away. They had chosen me—but their true depth, their potential... I hadn’t even begun to understand it.
I tried to appear calm, though sweat prickled at the back of my neck. There was no way I could go through with this.
And then I felt the weight of the necklace around my throat.
Hela.
I knew I needed that collar off first—but any chance I had of doing it myself was slipping fast. I looked at Yrissa and lifted my chin.
“May I speak to them—just for a moment?” I asked, gesturing toward Loki and Thor.
She shook her head. “No. My offer is fair, and binding. There is no room for tricks, no chance to squirm out of it. Refuse, and I shall know this is a ruse. You have the bracers, but you never intended to give them to me.”
A tight panic wrapped around my chest. I let my hand tremble. Fidgeted with the edge of my cloak, fingers brushing the hidden chain beneath.
Then I touched the stone of the necklace.
There was a faint tingle against my skin—and in the blink of an eye, Hela appeared behind Yrissa.
Her arms shot out like lightning. She seized Yrissa by the shoulders, and a high, piercing scream tore through the hall.
Loki grabbed my arm, yanking me back just as chaos erupted.
I saw Hela and Yrissa locked in a violent struggle, dark power crackling between them like stormfire. Sparks danced across the cave surrounding them, surging in wild bursts of corrupted energy as their hands locked and broke apart again, The air was charged—heavy with power and dread.
Then I saw it. A sudden shift.
The horror. Radiating from Hela’s face as her eyes went wide.
“Aurora!” she shouted. “I cannot take her soul! It is anchored to the Skull!”
My heart dropped like a stone.
I turned to Loki, my voice firm and clear. “Loki—I need to get that thing off you. It’s our only way out. Promise me you’ll get as many of us to safety as you can. Don’t worry about me or my Seiðr level. Just go.”
His eyes went wide. “Aurora—”
But I did not wait. I reached for the collar with both hands.
The moment I pushed my Seiðr into it, the drain hit like a wave crashing through my chest. It pulled hard—like something trying to tear the magic straight from my ribs—but I didn’t stop. I shoved harder, pouring everything I could into the collar. I layered freezing and melting in precise patterns, breaking it down piece by piece.
My hands trembled. My knees buckled. My skin felt raw with effort. But I kept going.
Then—finally—I felt it give. Loki’s Seiðr surged forward to meet mine, adding the final push.
The collar cracked.
Splintered.
And shattered.
Freed at last, I immediately redirected my Seiðr into him. I shoved the magic into his body, willing it to heal, to replenish. I felt him try to resist—too conscious of what it was costing me—but his body welcomed the flow. It needed it.
He grabbed my arms and shouted, “Aurora, stop!”
But I didn’t stop. I felt how much he needed it. The way his body responded, muscles regaining strength, color creeping back into his face. My hands trembled, the bracers flaring warm against my skin, drawing more from me to fuel the transfer. It burned, but I didn’t care.
The clang of metal rang out across the hall.
I looked up to see Thor in full motion—fighting off three of Angrboda’s soldiers at once. Mjolnir struck one hard enough to lift him off his feet, but another lunged in behind, and Thor grunted as a blade glanced off his ribs.
Another was coming. Too fast. I opened my mouth to shout—
—but Yrissa was already moving.
She struck me from behind.
A hand closed around my throat and yanked me backward.
“You treacherous bitch,” she hissed in my ear, her fingers biting into my skin, cutting off my breath.
Loki spun around, his whole body going rigid.
“Let her go,” he snapped, fury crackling in his voice.
But Yrissa held firm, her grip cruel and tight. Her eyes locked on his—and she smiled.
Behind him, Thor cried out.
I turned just in time to see the sword. It slid clean into his side. The sound that came from him wasn’t a shout—it was a broken gasp.
He fell to one knee. Blood soaked through his armor, thick and fast.
Loki moved instantly.
A wave of green Seiðr exploded outward, hurling attackers away. He darted to Thor’s side, dropping into a crouch, wrapping an arm around him to keep him upright.
I saw it on his face.
Panic. Desperation.
Pain.
“Loki,” I choked, my voice rasping around Yrissa’s grip. “Get him out. Shadow will take you both. Just go.”
He looked between me and Thor.
And froze.
I reached for the bond—and slammed into the lock he had placed around it.
Please, I thought. Let me in.
And then, slowly, I felt it lift.
“Aurora—” his voice echoed in my mind, raw and aching.
“Loki,” I interrupted, forcing the words out aloud, “if you don’t get the hell out of here right now, I swear—I will never forgive you. If Thor dies because of this… I will never look you in the eye again.”
He stared at me.
I felt it. The way the words hit him. The way it carved through his fear like a blade.
He turned to his brother.
Wrapped his arms around him.
And vanished.
The pulse of green light burned in my vision.
And then—
I let go.
The last threads of Seiðr slipped from my fingers. My body sagged in Yrissa’s grip.
And everything went black.
When I woke, I was in a dark room.
A bed. Soft.
That surprised me. I’d been sure I would wake chained to a wall like Loki. Or worse.
I sat up slowly, groggy and sore. Some of my clothing had been removed—my cloak and coat were draped neatly over a nearby chair. Even my corset had been folded and placed on top.
I glanced down.
My undershirt and leather pants were still on.
With a flick of my fingers, I summoned a fresh set from my void storage and changed quickly.
A soft giggle broke the silence.
I conjured a small orb of light—and there she was. Yrissa. Sitting quietly on the far side of the room.
I just stared at her.
She motioned to the chair across from her.
I didn’t move.
“Come now, Aurora. If I wished you harmed, I would have thrown your unconscious body into the sleeping quarters of my mercenaries,” she said, her tone glacial.
A shiver crawled up my spine.
She wasn’t wrong.
Stiffly, I crossed the room and sat in the chair she offered. I didn’t look away. I tried to sense her emotions—but all I got was a faint, distant calm.
Like still water hiding something underneath.
“How long have I been out?” I asked.
“Just a bit over a day,” was her short reply.
“I must say, I am very intrigued by your bond with Loki.” She grinned. “I have never seen him this much in love before. Not only did he show no interest in me—or any of the other forms I changed into for him—but he also recognized immediately that it was not you when I wore your face.”
I couldn’t help but glare at her as something twisted hard in my chest. Jealousy—sharp and sudden. My own, of course. I could barely sense hers. The bracers dulled my empathy too much for that. If I really focused, I might catch the faintest flicker, but it was like trying to feel heat through a wall. All I had clearly were my own reactions.
She caught them easily, though. And giggled.
I hated how readable I was. My face was too honest—always had been. The last thing I wanted was to give her more ammunition. Not for me. And definitely not for Loki.
“But tell me,” she continued, her tone turning sly, “how did you manage to switch between Muriel and Loki? Was Muriel just bait to make him jealous?” She gave me a smug little smile. “Forgive me for prying. I am genuinely curious. Especially since I worked quite hard to break you and Muriel apart in Alfheim.”
My eyes locked onto her.
“So it was you who made the three of us relive those memories.”
Her smile widened.
“Indeed. I wanted you to see the monster he really was,” she said, her voice chilling.
“Don’t expect me to believe that’s the only reason,” I said, narrowing my gaze. “You didn’t put that much effort into it just to spare me a bad relationship. You don’t even know me.”
She tilted her head and gave a slow shake.
“Of course not. But it was a nice side effect. Truthfully, I needed you gone. Out of Muriel’s life. It was obvious from the way he flaunted you—the gifts, the attention. Too much pride. I needed to take that away.”
I studied her carefully. Focused as hard as I could. I felt just the faintest undercurrent—a deeper flicker beneath the cold. Passion, maybe. Possessiveness. Not pure malice. Or not only. It had to be Angrboda. It felt too jagged to be entirely Yrissa.
“You keep saying that was the reason,” I said quietly. “But there were easier ways to push us apart. Showing me those memories? That was something else. That was personal.”
She chuckled.
“Well. I see now why Loki finds you interesting.” Then she smiled. “If you really want the truth, I needed a favor from a friend—a very particular friend who did not want Muriel to marry. Said it would ruin his chance at succession. So I helped clear the path.”
And I knew. I knew who she meant.
Lord Evindal.
My stomach turned.
She saw it. Of course she did.
“Ah. There it is,” she said, smug. “I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised when you actually broke things off with Muriel after the final memory. That was the plan, but Lord Evindal insisted you would do anything to be queen. I never imagined you’d catch Loki instead. Frankly, I assumed Thor would be the easier prize. Asgard’s golden boy.”
I managed not to react. Not outwardly.
Instead, I forced a smile.
“Well, then I guess I should thank you. If you hadn’t kissed me in that hallway, Loki might never have figured out how I felt. So… really. Thanks for the matchmaking.”
Her grin sharpened.
“Oh, I see. The little princess has claws,” she said with clear delight. “But do not think me foolish. I saw you and Loki together—when your courting was announced. You two are not that convincing as actors. You care for each other, deeply. That much is obvious.”
“But enough of that,” she said sharply. “You are only here because I know you did not lie about the bracers. But we searched you. And we found nothing. Where are they?”
I smiled calmly.
“And what exactly do I gain by telling you that?”
I knew I was pushing her. But I had nothing to lose. Loki and Thor were out. As soon as she learned the truth, things would explode anyway—so I might as well buy time.
Her brows knit, and a flare of energy pulsed beneath her skin. I focused, straining. Just a flicker of something cruel, something tight and coiled. That had to be Angrboda.
“You would do well not to test me,” she said. “I am not the more pleasant of the two of us.”
I tilted my head, satisfaction curling through me.
“Then I suppose this is where I say… nice to meet you, Angrboda.”
Her brow lifted—but she did not deny it.
“Yrissa might prefer to spare you the humiliation of being passed around by the men outside,” she said, voice cold as frost. “But I am not so gentle. And if she resists? I have plenty of other ways to inflict pain. Just ask Loki.”
My fists clenched.
“I know your story,” she continued. “Half Æsir. Unable to teleport more than yourself. It fits. If you had lied, you would have used your Seiðr to escape. But you did not. Which tells me there is something about you… something hidden.”
She paused, watching me closely.
“I knew it that night I kissed you,” she said, almost to herself. “You blasted me across the room without a spell. I had your arms pinned. I know all the formal incantations—and you used none. But still, you managed it.”
She leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing.
“There is more to you than even you understand, Princess.”
And I didn’t deny that either.
I just sat and stared at her, saying nothing. She looked at me like I was a prize stallion she’d just won in a bet.
“But I think you can be very useful,” she said with a grin. “Of course, I will need someone more cooperative inside you first.”
She was trying to scare me. I could feel it—barely. Distant and muffled beneath the bracers, like reading heat through glass.
“Do your worst,” I said calmly. “It’s not like I can’t fight and keep them down, just like Loki does. My Seiðr level is more than enough.”
Her expression twisted with sudden anger, and then a cruel smile spread across her face.
“Just thank the Norns I’m smarter than you,” she teased, her voice sharp. “I imagine you were quite surprised when my daughter failed to take my soul. It must have been quite the setback for your plan. The moment I heard that she and her father were both searching for me, I knew. I knew I had to use the Skull of Specters to anchor my soul. It would have been far too easy for my daughter to rip it out. I’ve been evading her detection for some time now, but with her father’s help, it would have only been a matter of time before she found me.”
Her tone was cold, but I could feel the underlying heat—small sparks of betrayal, buried deep. She still hadn’t forgiven Hela. Not really.
“But what can I say?” she continued, eyes narrowing. “My children were always disappointments. Though I must admit, creating them was... an entirely different matter. As you surely know, when Loki truly believes he is in love, he is quite the determined lover. Would you not agree?”
The words hit like a slap. My jealousy surged, fast and sharp, though I caught something unexpected beneath hers—an old flicker of it. She was jealous, too.
She’d cared for him once.
But I didn’t rise to her bait. I just looked at her—blank and unreadable.
It seemed to frustrate her more than anything else I could’ve said.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. A man stepped inside.
“Mistress, there is something you need to see.”
Angrboda rose so quickly her chair scraped the stone. “Did I not say you were not to enter this room or interrupt me?” she hissed.
The man flinched and visibly shook.
“But, Mistress—it is Prince Loki,” he said.
I snapped my head toward him before I could stop myself.
The man continued under her glare. “He says he has come of his own free will. That he will do whatever you ask—as long as you do not harm her.” He pointed at me.
My heart plummeted.
I reached through the bond with everything I had. “Loki, tell me you have a plan. Tell me you’re not just surrendering in some stupid hope to get me out of here.”
Relief hit me like a wave when the connection sparked open.
“Aurora. Are you alright? I have spent hours trying to reach you. There was nothing.”
“I was unconscious,” I said, already furious. “I’m fine now—but what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I felt his frustration rise to match mine.
“If you think I am going to leave you here alone—knowing what she might do to you—then you clearly do not know me as well as you claim,” he growled.
Before I could respond, Angrboda turned toward me.
“It seems he loves you more than I thought,” she purred. Then she yanked me to my feet. “Come.”
“Loki, leave. She’s taking me to see you, and I can feel she’s planning something. Please—go. I can take care of myself. You know I can.”
“I will die before I leave you here,” he snapped. “We are in this together. We will find a way out—together. You came for me. I will do the same. Promise me you will not face this alone.”
There was love in his voice, but also that stubborn, furious edge.
I hated it.
As we entered the throne room, her hand still gripping my arm, I saw him.
He was kneeling, three mercenaries holding him down.
The moment he looked up and saw me unharmed, I felt his relief across the bond.
Angrboda marched toward the dais and, with a flick of her wrist, summoned a silver bracer that snapped around my wrist and chained me to the side of her throne. I yanked against it, but it held fast. I probably could’ve melted it… but I wasn’t ready to show that hand yet.
“Well, if this is not a surprise,” she said sweetly. “May I ask why you have returned, Loki?”
She waved her hand, and the mercenaries let go.
He stood, his glare icy.
“You know damn well why I am here,” he said. “I came for Aurora. I will not leave without her.”
Angrboda laughed. “And why would I not simply kill you? Or strip you of your power again?”
Loki’s face shifted into something cool and clever. Mischievous.
“Because if you kill me, she will never give you the bracers. And if you had another collar, she would have already be wearing it.”
I felt her surprise—saw it in the tiny shift of her expression before she masked it with fury.
“And you think I will let you stay here,” she snarled, “fully powered and waiting for the chance to steal her back the moment I turn away?”
This time, I could feel Loki’s heart sink.
“While I do not dislike that plan,” he said slowly, “I know you are not a fool. I will swear an unbreakable oath—one where I vow not to attempt freeing her, so long as you swear she will not be harmed, and you will not try to separate us or come between us in any way.”
I saw Angrboda’s brow lift at his offer.
“Interesting,” she mused. “But will you also swear to use your power to help me get the bracers from her?”
Loki’s jaw tightened.
“So long as, after you have the bracers, she and I are both released from our oaths and allowed to leave unharmed—then yes.”
My chest went cold. My eyes widened.
“Loki, you can’t swear that!” I cried, panic creeping into my voice. I could feel the stubborn flare in him rise immediately.
“Yes,” he snapped. “Let her have the damned bracers and be done with it. I will not lose you over some enchanted cuffs. There are other ways to defeat her.”
Tears welled in my eyes. He didn’t understand.
“Loki, there’s something you don’t know—” I started, pleading, but before I could say more, he slammed the privacy lock shut.
I gasped. No—no. I tried to reach him through the bond. I banged against it, hard, and I saw him flinch—but he didn’t relent. The lock stayed firm.
Angrboda stood and approached him slowly. “So you would swear this,” she said.
“Only if you do the same,” he replied coldly.
I was trapped. I couldn’t tell him the truth—not without revealing everything to her. And what would she do if she found out? She only kept him alive as leverage. If she knew the truth, if she learned what the bracers really were to me... she might kill him on the spot.
I tried again through the bond, banging against the lock with my mind, willing him to open it. He looked at me then, stubborn and resolute.
“Loki, don’t—there’s something you don’t—” I shouted, but Angrboda flicked her hand, and a silver muzzle clamped over my mouth.
I stumbled back, shocked, my voice trapped behind it.
She turned back to him. “Then let us begin,” she said smoothly.
With another wave of her hand, a writing desk appeared between them—two chairs and a silver chain resting atop the polished wood.
Fury surged through me.
I focused on the bracer on my wrist. I turned slightly, angling it away from her sight, and summoned my Seiðr to melt the cuff. It hissed softly, the metal giving way in seconds. The moment I was free, I leapt from the throne and raced toward them—but I didn’t make it far.
Rough hands grabbed me before I could reach them.
I kicked, struggled, tried to scream—but the muzzle held. I was readying a burst of Seiðr when Loki’s voice rang out.
“If they harm her, the deal is off.”
My eyes snapped to him, burning with fury. But he would not meet my gaze.
“Then you handle her,” Angrboda said, annoyed. “Keep her out of the way.”
Loki strode toward me and yanked the mercenaries off with one sharp motion. He caught me before I fell.
“Aurora, please,” he murmured in my ear. “This is for the best.”
I slammed into the walls of his privacy lock, harder than before. I could feel him flinch. I begged him with my eyes, tried to make him understand—he couldn’t do this.
He hesitated.
Then I felt it.
His magic. A tingle at my temples.
“No,” I tried to say—but the muzzle made it impossible. I braced myself, tried to resist, but I was already weakened.
His Seiðr slipped into me like silk. Gentle. Regretful.
Sleep rushed over me like a tide, and my knees buckled.
I fell against him as my world went black.